


Seven Stages

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, I'm gonna hurt them fair warning, I'm not a nice writer-mom, James is British Indian, James is a little shit, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter is an actual person, Peter is... British, Remus has a stutter, Severus Snape Being a Bastard, Sirius has a tremor, Sirius is British Chinese, Welsh Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:27:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24386680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Seven years at Hogwarts, seven stages of grief. A work in progress to try and refine my writing skills while capturing a story I've always wanted to create. There isn't a thought-out plot... yet? There will be more than 7 chapters though because I can't commit to only 7 crazy long chapters.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Seven Stages

**Author's Note:**

> It's 1971, and our Boys are starting Hogwarts. They're 11, full of mischief and magic and innocence that is mostly intact.. for now.
> 
> Translations are in the end notes.

The air of Kings Cross Station smelled familiar, the distinct scent of cigarette smoke and coffee filling Remus’ nose. There was also the underlying smell of garbage, sweat, and a bit of puke, but he tried to ignore that. This was the best day of his life, after all. People, so many people, bustled around the trio without so much as a second glance. Newspapers crinkled in the hands of old businessmen, black and white pictures unmoving. Laughter echoed along the high ceilings, turning Remus’ head as he attempted to pinpoint the far-away source.

“Remus, fy anwylaf, come along now. You better not be late.”

Hope Lupin’s eyes were bright despite the premature wrinkles and dark circles that surrounded them. She loosened her grasp on Remus’ right hand, his father grabbing his left. As they approached platform 9, they stopped. Hope knelt down and pulled Remus into a tight hug, pressing a long kiss onto his mousy brown hair.

“Dyma lle dwi'n gadael chi, fy nghariad.” She smiled sadly. She pressed another kiss to his forehead and stood again. “Be safe.”

Lyall Lupin squeezed Remus’ hand.

“This is the hard part, remember? Just do what we talked about. On the count of three, we rush forward.”

Remus looked apprehensively at the brick wall that faced them. It looked suspiciously solid. He looked up into the honey-colored eyes of his father, eyes that he had allegedly inherited. They were warm, like his mothers, though scrunched slightly in what might have been concern or exhaustion. Remus wasn’t sure. He glanced back at his mother, who nodded. Tears streamed silently down her face.

“Okay,” He whispered. What reason would his parents have for lying about the entrance to the platform? His father would slam into the brick wall if it were untrue, after all.

“I love you, mwmi.”

Before he knew it, his father was saying three and he was rushing head-first into a solid wall. He closed his eyes, bracing for an impact that never came.

The air was different. That was the first thing Remus noticed before opening his eyes again. There was still the smell of cigarette smoke and coffee, but the underlying scent that filled the air was sweet. There was an intangible crackle that he could just barely sense, jumping between and through each person like electricity. It felt like home.

Remus’ mouth tugged up into a smile as he looked around. There were children of all ages running across the busy platform, some throwing themselves into the arms of school friends, others clinging to the arms of their parents. A loud whistle sounded ahead as a cloud of smoke billowed from the Hogwarts Express. Remus tugged forward, dragging his father behind him like luggage. His own luggage was limited to a large knapsack that Lyall had swung around his shoulders.

“Brysiwch!” He called. “Pryd mae'r trên yn gadael?”

“English, Remus!” Lyall called. He tugged his son, slowing him to a stop, and knelt beside him.

“Remus. I told you before, you can’t speak Welsh around other wizards.”

Remus huffed, looking past his father with a mixture of impatience and annoyance.

“I don’t understand. Why don’t they like Welsh people?”

Lyall sighed, his eyes looking more worn and tired than before. “Remus, right now it isn’t safe to be a nonwizard. Because your mother is a muggle, you aren’t what some wizards would call a ‘pureblood.’ It's dangerous to be a mu- not to be a pureblood.” Lyall corrected himself quickly before continuing, “Just like your condition. You can’t tell anyone. You need to speak English here, and keep it a secret.”

Remus scrunched his eyebrows. “Professor Dumbledore didn’t mention that I had to keep that a secret too.”

“I know, Remus. I know,” Lyall pushed up his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. He brought his hand back down and held Remus’ hands together.

“It's unfair, I know. But if you want to go to Hogwarts, you have to keep it a secret. There are no Welsh purebloods anymore.”

Remus finally nodded. He remembered vividly when the town of his birth, Newport, had been purged of wizards nearly seven years prior. Werewolves and dark wizards had raided the wizarding town just before his fifth birthday. It was the night Fenrir Greyback attacked him. The reason he nearly hadn’t been able to attend Hogwarts.

“I’m sorry, Dat,” He said. Lyall gave him a quick squeeze before standing once more.

“It's alright, Remus. Come on, let's get you on board.” The train whistled twice more just as Lyall finished.

Remus took his knapsack from his father. It had been charmed to be both lighter and larger than it appeared, although the space was not filled by much. He gave his father a hug, lingering within his arms before finally pulling away.

“I’ll see you in the winter, Remus,” Lyall smiled.

Remus simply nodded, nose scrunching up slightly, before climbing up the steps of the nearest carriage. The train was overflowing with activity. Magical toys and charms flew across the aisle, forcing a grin from Remus. The compartments he passed were filled with groups of students of all ages, friends furiously catching up from a summer apart. As he neared the end of the carriage, a small, slightly chubby boy opened the last compartment door and poked his head out. Remus paused in front of him, unsure what to do.

“Do you know when the snack trolley is coming?” The boy asked. His blond hair was combed to the side in a way that may have looked neat at one point but had come untamed and stuck up in several places.

“Uh, no, sorry,” Remus replied, forcing forth his most proper accent.

The other boy frowned, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Well alright.” He didn’t make a move to return into the compartment.

“Do you, erm, m-mind if I sit with you? The other compartments are full.” Remus kicked himself silently for stuttering again. His father would be displeased that his ‘proper English accent’ fell apart so quickly, but the other boy didn’t even seem to notice.

“Yeah!” His face lit up. “I’m a first year, I don’t really have any friends yet so I’m sitting alone. Oh! I’m Peter, by the way.” He stuck out a chubby hand.

Remus offered his slowly, his mouth smiling slightly at Peter’s overenthusiastic handshake. “I’m Remus. I’m a first year too.”

Peter launched into conversation the minute Remus sat down next to the window, talking about his home in Nottingham and his family of Gryffindors. Remus listened intently, watching as other students boarded the train as the last-call whistles were blown. There was a stiff family just outside their window, presumably saying goodbye. The mother was taller than the father, sleek black hair tied in a tight bun. They looked like dolls, with high, aristocratic cheekbones and dark, slanting eyes. There were two boys with them, the younger one clinging to his mother’s skirt from behind. The elder son flinched as his father brought his hand down on his shoulder. Remus wasn’t sure what he said, but judging by the expression on the boy’s face, it wasn’t pleasant. He looked back at Peter as the boy boarded the train, drawn by a question from the other boy.

“Where are you from?”

“Oh, I live in Bristol,” Remus said. It wasn’t a lie, although it wasn’t where he was from.

The train whistled once more before lurching forward. Several students began cheering excitedly in other compartments.

“Cool!” Peter exclaimed. “I thought maybe you had a little accent, but I didn’t know from where. My uncle lives in Bishopsworth, maybe you’ve seen him before! He’s a bit of a tall fellow-”

Peter was interrupted as a red-haired girl opened the door to the compartment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure anyone was in here,” She said. A shorter boy with dark, slicked back hair stood behind her. Remus wasn’t sure if his hair was meant to be slicked back, or if it was just greasy.

“That’s okay! You guys can sit here if you want.” Peter offered eagerly. The other boy, the one with the greasy hair, tugged at the girl’s sleeve.

“Let’s go to a different carriage, Lily. These two poofs seem fine on their own.”

“Sev! Don’t say that.” The girl, Lily, smacked his arm. Her mouth turned up into a small smile, though, like it was a game between the two. “I’m sorry, he’s a bit rude. We’re going to try and find an empty compartment. Thanks, anyways!” The pair turned and left, leaving the door open.

“What a twat.” Remus mumbled.

Peter looked at him with wide eyes. “Right? What was up with that?”

Remus shrugged, standing. “They couldn’t even bother to close the door.” He made his way to the other end of the compartment, reaching for the handle. He looked up and came face to face with the lopsided grin of another boy.

“Oi, Sirius! There’s a compartment here that isn’t full!” The other boy yelled, gesturing down the aisle. He had large, square glasses that looked cartoonish on his small face, and curly dark hair that looked messier than it should have been.

“I'm James. It's alright if we sit with you guys, right?” He said as he sprawled out on the seat next to Peter.

“I’m Peter!” He held out his hand, giving James another large handshake.

“Wotcher, Peter.” James grinned as Remus stood at the doorway, looking slightly dumbfounded. “Sirius!” James’ face lit up as yet another boy appeared in the doorway. It was the same boy that Remus had watched from the window. The one with the beautiful, though scary, parents. Remus could see his face much clearer at less than half a meter away, compared to through the window. His eyes were a soft grey, yet they stared intensely into his for a moment before he said anything. They lit up as he started talking, the intensity dissipating for an almost chaotic, or crazy, excitement.

“Wotcher, I’m Sirius.” The slang seemed misplaced coming from his mouth. His voice was smooth, clear, though he sounded a bit like a girl. Remus couldn’t help but smile a little.

“I’m, erm, R-Remus.” He bit his lip at the stutter. He’d have to get that under control. Sirius’ eyebrows cinched together for just a second- so quickly, it could have just been a twitch. Remus’ heart skipped. It was just a twitch.

“Pleasure!” Sirius said without missing a beat. He sat down across from James, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. His black hair was brushed neatly back, a few strands sticking forward in a way that somehow managed to look cool instead of messy.

“So,” James began, “What have we got.” He looked around at the group of boys.

Remus took his seat by the window, trying to take up as little space as possible in the corner. Sirius glanced over at him and leaned back, gesturing to the space between the seat they shared. “I don’t bite,” he said. Remus gave a crooked, close-lipped smile and tilted his legs further into the free space in front of him.

“What do you mean?” Peter said, addressing James.

“Well, are you a Gryffindor? Ravenclaw? Merlin forbid, Slytherin?”

“W-we haven’t been sorted yet.’ Remus interjected.

“Duh,” James said. “We’re all clearly first years. I mean what house are you going to get sorted into? You guys know, right? I mean, I’m definitely getting sorted into Gryffindor. My whole family is Gryffindor.”

Peter nodded enthusiastically. “Mine too! I hope I’ll get sorted into Gryffindor.”

“If I don’t get into Gryffindor, I think I might just die.” James sighed dramatically. Peter’s head shook again, nodding a little too excitedly.

Remus hesitated, consciously trying to contain his stutter. “My dad was in Gryffindor. So, I think I might get sorted there. But my mum thinks I could be sorted into Ravenclaw.”

“My family is full of Slytherins.” Sirius said bluntly. “It's all bollocks though. I’m not like them. I want to get sorted into Gryffindor. With you lot.” He grinned. His hand shook slightly in his lap and he clasped his hands together once more. Remus couldn’t help but notice.

James grinned. “Alright then it's settled. Gryffindor, together.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works-” Remus began.

“Oh, that’s definitely how it works. If you’re brave enough to ask for it, why wouldn’t you get sorted there?” James said. Remus couldn’t believe it, but he had a good point.

The train slowed to a stop several hours later. The boys had changed into their unmarked robes and sat surrounded by sweet wrappings and snacks from the trolley, heads thrown back as they all laughed.

“N-no, no I swear he looked like he hadn’t showered in weeks. I wanted to think it was on purpose, but-” Remus fell back, snickering as Sirius interjected.

“What’s up that git’s arse? He practically threw a tantrum when James cut him off in the aisle.”

“Oi, what do you suppose his deal is with that girl?” James asked.

“Forget it James, you’re definitely not anywhere near her league.” Remus said. The other boys fell back cackling once more.

A prefect slid open the door to their compartment. “Come on, it's time to go. Hagrid’s waiting at the docks.”

As the boys gathered their things and stood, Peter whispered, “What’s a Hagrid?” His question was quickly answered as the group of first years approached the docks.

“Welcom’!” Hagrid boomed. “Six to a boat. Go on ‘head, we ought ter get goin’.”

The boys quickly scrambled into a small boat together, followed by Lily and Severus. Sirius snickered quietly, joined by James. Remus bumped their legs and hushed them. As the castle came into sight, the students began to murmur with wonder, eyes wide.

“I-It’s so much bigger than I thought,” Remus whispered. Tall, majestic towers loomed overhead. He had seen images in the paper, but they didn't do the castle justice. It was larger than life. Sirius, James, and Peter all had similar looks of wonder on their faces. Severus rolled his eyes, but stared at the sight as well.

Once the boats docked, they climbed several stairs until they were met by a tall, stern-looking woman wearing spectacles.

“Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house. If any of you take Transfiguration, you will see me there.” She said. Her head was held high, brown hair pulled back into a neat bun. “Follow me. Quickly now.”

While seeing the castle for the first time had been extraordinary, entering the great hall felt like the stuff of dreams. The looming ceilings, floating candles, the four long tables. Remus had only ever read about it and the charms that allowed the ceiling to reflect the night sky. As they approached the opposite end of the hall, Peter bumped Remus’ arm with his elbow.

“Look! It's the sorting hat! And Dumbledore!” He beamed. Remus nodded excitedly. He had met Dumbledore once before, when the Headmaster had come to his home in Bristol to invite him to Hogwarts. His father said it was uncommon, for the Headmaster himself to make home appearances. He was clearly a special case.

After a brief speech by Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall began calling students for the sorting.

“Bertram Aubrey!” She said. A lanky boy came forward. It took several minutes before the sorting hat finally called out, “Ravenclaw!”

“Sirius Black!”

Remus glanced over at the Slytherin table as Sirius stepped forward. He wondered what their reaction would be, if Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor. He wondered if Sirius would be able to choose.

James, Remus, and Peter stood together closely as the sorting hat mumbled. It took much longer for the hat to decide Sirius’ fate, and the boy was clearly nervous despite his strong efforts to remain cool. Remus noticed the hand tremor once more, just before Sirius clasped his hands. After what had felt like ages, the sorting hat finally called out its decision.

“Gryffindor!”

Sirius’ first reaction was to grin, searching the crowd of first years for his newfound friends. The silence that came from the Slytherin table caused his grin to fade. He made his way to the Gryffindor table quickly.

Several students followed before Remus, including the red-haired girl, Lily Evans as she was sorted into Gryffindor. His ears started to ring as his name was called, Remus stepped forward, sitting as Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head. He clenched his eyes shut, hands holding the edges of the stool as though to keep himself from falling. The hat’s voice sounded different in his head. His eyes shot open in shock as it began to speak.

“Very intelligent… that much is clear. But you’ve so much pain as well. You have made it through tremendous tragedy. Your intelligence would be well put to use in…”

The hat called out Gryffindor across the hall, and Remus couldn’t contain his grin as the table stood and cheered. He hopped off the stool and made his way next to Sirius, embracing his new friend.

“I was starting to get worried I was going to be alone here,” Sirius said. He was grinning, but his hands were holding the bench firmly at his sides. Remus could tell he was anxious.

The rest of the sorting process flew by, with Peter and James being sorted into Gryffindor in quick succession of one another. The boys feasted on what must have been the most food any of them had ever consumed or seen in their lives. When the dinner was complete, the first years separated from the rest of the Gryffindors and joined the Prefects at the head of the table.

“I’m Alice Fortescue,” one of the prefects introduced herself. “And I’m Frank Longbottom,” the other said. “Welcome to Gryffindor! Follow us, we’ll show you where the dormitories are and how to get in through the portrait.

Remus was shocked by the concept of a painting guarding the doorway to the dormitories but was even more surprised by the moving staircases and changing passwords.

“We’re supposed to memorize a new passcode every fortnight?” Peter exclaimed to Remus. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to remember.”

“Don’t worry,” James hissed over. “We’ll just let you in.” Peter nodded, satisfied with James’ solution.

The common room was warmed by a lit fire and the red décor. Remus couldn’t quite believe that he was really there, that it was actually real. He was a Gryffindor. He grinned.

The boys made their way up the stairs to their rooms, each selecting a bed. Remus chose one to the left of the room, next to an arching window. Sirius chose the bed next to him, followed by James, and then Peter on the very right. James and Sirius began pulling off their clothes and changing into pyjamas, chatting away about the events of that evening. Peter quickly followed their lead, while Remus excused himself and locked himself in the bathroom. He tugged off his rob, followed by his dress shirt and pants. His freckled torso was split by several white tears dragging their way across his body. He scrunched his nose in disgust, quickly pulling on his pyjamas and brushing his teeth.

When he finally left the bathroom, the James and Peter had closed their curtains and gone to sleep. Peter’s light snoring was easily recognizable. Sirius sat at the foot of his bed, toothbrush in hand.

“They didn’t brush his teeth,” He said with disgust. Remus grinned and laughed softly.

“Well, it’s been a long night.”

“Yeah.”

The two boys sat in silence for a moment.

“Are you alright?” Remus finally asked. Sirius clenched his fists in his lap.

“Yeah. I’m glad I got sorted into Gryffindor, you know. I don’t know what I would have done…” Sirius trailed off before letting out a sigh. “It's just, my parents. My- My whole family.” He sniffled, wiping his nose quickly.

Remus sat at the foot of Sirius’ bed next to him. “Hey. It’ll be okay, they have to understand that it's not your fault, right?”

“But it is,” Sirius whispered, his eyes meeting Remus’. They were a stormy grey, beginning to overfill with tears. He wiped them once more.

“I could have asked for Slytherin. I could have tried to be more like my family.”

“From what you told us on the train, I think it's a good thing that you’re not like them, Sirius.” Remus murmured.

Sirius took a deep breath and nodded quickly. “You’re right. There’s nothing I can do to change it anyways.” He smiled bitterly. “Thanks, Remus,” He said. He pulled his friend into a quick embrace before standing.

“I’m going to brush my teeth. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Sirius,” Remus said. He climbed into his own bed, mind racing. He thought about his parents, Sirius’ parents, his experience on the train. He never imagined he’d make any friends. Especially not three. He turned onto his side and smiled. He couldn’t wait for the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> If there are any inaccurate details or spelling errors just kill me on the spot.
> 
> jk please tell me, I don't have a Beta.
> 
> I don't actually know welsh, so google translate is trying its best here:
> 
> Fy anwylaf: My dearest  
> Dyma lle dwi'n gadael chi, fy nghariad.: This is where I leave you, my love.  
> Mwmi: Mummy  
> Brysiwch: Hurry up  
> Pryd mae'r trên yn gadael?: When does the train leave?  
> Dat: Dad
> 
> While doing some research for Remus' welsh accent (Its currently 4 am and I've written and done research for this in one sitting. its been hours. I have no self control.) I realized that welsh people say "erm" a lot so. Poor Remus and his little stutter.
> 
> I like to imagine James looks a little like young Richie from It with his glasses. But not white obv


End file.
